


What He Deserves

by worthy_of_the_shield



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Harry Thompson Lives, Hurt/Comfort, I AM IN DENIAL, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-12 08:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worthy_of_the_shield/pseuds/worthy_of_the_shield
Summary: So, yeah, let's ignore everything that's just happened. Harry survives, the writers can screw right off and everything is going to be fixed.Where in Tony learns, James regrets, Breda and Mercedes don't get away with anything, Ste exists, and Harry gets what he truly deserves. A lot better than what he's got.





	1. Alive

Pain thrummed through Harry’s body, his limbs weak and vision becoming cloudier by the moment. He heard the fading click of Breda’s shoes as she walked away until all he could hear were his own ragged breaths and a faint pounding in his ears. He lifted a hand and pressed it to the wound, feeling hot, slick blood run over his fingers where his clothes had been pierced. He used his other hand to fumble with his phone, barely able to dial the numbers. He managed it though.

He felt his voice leave him even as he was speaking. “I’m… in the dog car park… I’ve been stabbed…”

The phone fell from his grip, as his body went limp and his vision went black.

“Harry? Can you hear me, Harry?”

He was aware of the feeling of movement, and as his eyes flickered open, he could see the ceiling move above him. The face of Misbah Maalik appeared in the corner of his vision. It hurt. Everything hurt so much. He let out a weak groan, suddenly aware of the plastic covering his nose and mouth. Breathing felt easier now.

“Harry?” Misbah was looking at him. “You’re in the hospital, and we’re taking you through to surgery now.”

Oh yeah, he thought. I’ve been stabbed. Breda…

“Breda…” The word was muffled by the oxygen mask, but it felt important to tell someone now.

“Harry? Oh, God, HARRY!” Dad. Tony appeared in his vision, face a picture of complete terror and worry. “What happened, son? Is he going to be OK, tell me he’s going to be OK!”

Harry heard Misbah, saying something about blood loss, and checking internal bleeding, and surgery, but it was becoming difficult to listen. He was so tired…

“Stay with me, OK, son? I’m right here, I’m right here, Harry!” Tony’s voice was becoming distant, and the lights were suddenly so bright. Closing his eyes was so easy.

When he woke up again, it was to the sound of constant beeping. He hurt less now, and his mind felt foggy and weird.

He groaned, trying to adjust his eyes to the light.

“Harry?” There were fingers in his hair. The voice sounded thick and croaky. “You’re all right, son. You’re going to be all right.”

“Dad?” The word came out in a rasp. He felt so light and so heavy at once.

“It’s OK, Harry. I’m here, and I’m not going to leave you. I’m never going to leave you again, all right?” Tony looked over his shoulder, seeming both relieved and worried at the same time. “Harry, the police are here.”

Harry nodded. Right. He was still wanted.

“Obviously, you’re not in any condition to be moved right now. James is talking to them—” He must have noticed Harry’s look of shock, as explained more. “Yeah, I know. God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, for not believing you. For never really believing you. It sounds like he knows what he did was terrible, and he’s still trying to keep you out of prison.”

The last thing James had said to Harry was how he couldn’t care less whether Harry rotted in jail or went on the run. He must have come to his senses.

“Harry.” Tony’s voice was intense. “Who did this to you? We can tell the police now, get them caught.”

His voice was weak but clear. “Breda.”

“Breda?” Harry nodded. “Breda McQueen? Harry, are you sure?”

He smirked. “She had a speech… and everything… not gonna forget that.”

“Why?”

“Isaac. I was gonna leave him… she didn’t approve. Said something about God’s work.”

Tony simply stared at him, looking stunned. Harry worried for a terrifying moment that his dad wasn’t going to believe him. Then he pressed his lips together and nodded. “OK, I’ll talk to James and the police.”

“Dad…” Harry needed something. “My phone.”

He looked confused, the pulled something out of his pocket. “I have it here. Someone in the ambulance picked it up.”

Harry reached over and took it, squinting at the screen. Fingers shaking, he unlocked it and went to his recording. The relief he felt when he saw the recording was still there was indescribable. He didn’t feel so weighed down anymore.

He played it, and they listened, to the argument, the confession and, to top it all off, the death threat.

“Was that—?”

“Mercedes.” Harry finished for him. “She was driving, with Liam. They’re having an affair.”

Tony seemed to need a moment, to collect himself, despite the quiet fury brewing in his eyes. “OK, son. I’ll take this with me. With Sadie’s alibi, you should be in the clear. I’ll go tell the doctor you’re awake.”

Harry reached out and gripped Tony’s hand. “I love you, Dad.”

Tony stared for a moment, before leaning over to kiss Harry’s forehead. “I love you too, son. I’ll make this right. I promise.”


	2. Confront

James struggled to get along with the police on a general basis. After all, he was a lawyer, they were very rarely on the same side, whether he was defending someone clearly guilty or they were trying to send an innocent person to jail. However, the Hollyoaks police department occupied a very special place in his mind reserved only for those he held a strong resentment bordering on founded hatred for. They were, without a doubt, the most inept, unprofessional and outright lazy police force he had ever had the misfortune to encounter.

“I will repeat myself,” he said through gritted teeth. “The doctors have said Harry is in no state to be moved or questioned, so unless you’re going to start to be useful, I suggest—”

“James?” Tony Hutchison was edging closer and closer to the place of strong resentment with every conversation. The only reason he had stayed out so far was that, well, Harry loved him. “Harry’s awake.”

That caught his attention. “What?”

“He’s still very weak,” Tony added, probably seeing the officer perk up at the news. “I’ve let Misbah know, as she’s going to check on him. James, I need to talk to you. Alone.”

They turned to stare at the officer, who, after a moment, scowled and muttered, “I’ll be around.”  
Once they were alone, Tony started to explain. “Harry knows who attacked him. It was Breda!”

James frowned. “Breda McQueen? Why on earth would she try to kill Harry?”

At that Tony started to look a bit sheepish. “Apparently she got the impression that he deserved it for leaving Isaac. She had a speech, according to Harry.”

Breda McQueen. Who looked after the children of the village, who always had a kind word to say, who no one had a bad word to say about, who had ironed his shirt once when… when…

“Breda…” No, she couldn’t, she wouldn’t… But she had. “I was poisoned.”

“James?” Tony looked confused.

“A few months ago, when I was poisoned, Breda was in my flat. She was the last person I saw before I collapsed. I never even suspected… I assumed it must have been Mac, but when he died.” He stared at Tony, so many pieces clicking into place. The same poison used to kill Mac, the poison found in Romeo’s jacket after they had spent hours at the Dog… “She killed Mac.”

Tony’s face was pale, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. “It’s not just Mac… Carl Costello, Glenn Donovan, Russ Owen.”

“You think she killed all of them?”

“Carl was trying to take Bobby away and Russ had cheated on Mercedes. Glenn died in the pub, she was probably there!”

James nodded. “OK, when Harry’s better he can give a statement to the police, and hopefully they’ll be competent enough to arrest her. She won’t have an alibi, and we know her motive.”

“James there’s something else.” Tony pulled Harry’s phone out of his pocket. “Harry recorded this. It proves his innocence.”

“Seriously?” 

Tony played the clip. The conversation was quick, a minute, perhaps less, but it held weight. It held an accusation, a confession and a threat. It wasn’t perfect, any lawyer worth their money could construe the clip as altered, or out of context. But she was clearly talking to Harry, it was clearly Mercedes, it was very likely that they were talking about the same hit-and-run, and the words “I will kill you” were clear as day. James had assumed Liam was driving that night, but he was wrong. He was protecting the person who was. Oh, Mercedes McQueen, he thought to himself. You messed with the wrong lawyer.

The Dog was quiet, only the odd clink of glasses and bottles breaking the silence. James was one of only two people in the pub, the part having winded down hours ago. He hadn’t gone to see Harry in hospital. He was still weak, and James doubted his presence would have done much to help him. Guilt and shame still churned in his stomach like milk to butter, but this, having something to focus on, someone to blame, helped still his worries. All that mattered now was Harry. All that ever mattered was Harry. 

The other person in the pub was Mercedes McQueen, who was cleaning tables and picking up bottled. Closing down for the evening. James stared at the woman, going about her business, as though she hadn’t put a woman in a wheelchair, allowed an innocent young man to be punished for it, threatened his life, and tore a hole through James’ life. Everything, the secrets, the lies, the mistrust, it started with the night of the crash. He and Harry could have worked through everything with Sadie, were going to try, until the doubt crept in, and he started to question Harry’s innocence. And then, his loyalty. And all of it started with her.

“We’re closed,” Mercedes said at the sound of the door closing.

“Sorry,” said James, taking a step closer. “I guess I’m a little late for a pint.”

She looked up at his voice, made eye contact for a moment, before returning to work. “Afraid so.”

“Harry’s in hospital.” He had to keep his voice blunt, he couldn’t afford to show emotion.

She stopped working again. “What happened?”

“He was stabbed.” His tone lifted a bit, and the words felt thicker in his mouth. “He almost died. In the car park. I don’t suppose you saw anything.”

She stared at him then, shocked. “No, nothing.”

He nodded. “No matter. He saw the person who did it anyway. You’re lucky, actually. If he hadn’t, you would be in handcuffs right now.”

“James?” There was a tremor in her voice that James revelled in. 

He took a step towards her. “Did you really think you could threaten the life of the man I love, and get away with it? I mean, it really was a monumentally stupid thing to do. There was no way you were going to go through with it, and even if you were, did you really think you wouldn’t be caught?” He chuckled. “Honestly, I see a lot of myself in you Mercedes. We’re both broken, both fiercely protective of those we love, both struggle to really care about those we don’t. When we’re in pain, we demand that others feel it too. It’s when we’re at our weakest that we cause the most damage, wreak the most havoc in other people’s lives. And you keep getting chance, after chance, because, underneath your wild side, people think you have a good heart. I’m the opposite. People think I don’t have a heart.”

“James, I don’t know what—”

“Where you’re cowardly, I’m cruel. Where you laugh, I sneer. Where you try to ease the pain of regret, I let shame drive me to breaking point. You drove a car into a restaurant, and I pushed one off a cliff.”

She was backing away now, trying to put the bar between them. “I don’t know what Harry’s told you—”

A laugh tore itself from his throat. “Harry didn’t have to tell me anything! The recording he made on his phone, of a certain conversation, told me enough.”

There it was. The shock, horror, panic that flew across her face. She was clever enough to know there was no point in denying it. “James, please, I didn’t do anything to Harry, I didn’t want any of this to happen!”

“I understand.” He kept his voice level. “You were protecting your family, your marriage. I might have done the same thing. I have done the same thing. Which is why I need to do this now. I wish you had come to me before, Mercedes. We could have pinned it all on Liam. I don’t really care who goes down for this. As long as it’s not Harry.”

There were tears in her eyes, and now she was coming back towards him, wringing her hands. “James, please, I’m begging you! They’ll take Bobby from me, Sylver’ll leave me, I have a family!”

“I have a family!” he snapped. “Harry almost died! He almost died thinking I hated, thinking I’d turned my back on him, knowing I did things I will never, ever forgive myself for. And all of it happened, all of it started, with you and Liam. This isn’t a discussion, Mercedes. It’s a warning!”

As if on cue, a police siren started to wail in the distance.

“Good, they took my advice.” She stared at him. “I already gave the recording to the police, so that, coupled with Sadie’s alibi and the statement she made against Liam, means you are in very deep water.” He leaned closer to her. “Don’t run, Mercedes, it’ll only make things worse. Blame Liam for all of it, if you must, I wouldn’t blame you. You were having an affair, he threatened you to stay quiet about the hit-and-run, et cetera, et cetera.”

The sirens were much closer, and Mercedes seemed stuck in place, her eyes wide. Footsteps approached from the stairs. 

“Everything all right babe?” Sylver came into the room. He was a good man, James realised. He didn’t deserve this. Perhaps that was something else he could agree with Mercedes on. 

“I… I…”  
He turned to glare at James. “What’ve you done?!”

“Ah yes, I’m always the bad guy.” He walked to the door. “I am sorry about this. But my family must come first. You should understand that.”

He opened the door to two police officers and stood aside to let them past. He walked from the pub, listening to the words of Mercedes’ arrest. It was late, the sun dipping below the horizon. His mother and Romeo may start to worry. In the morning, he would go back to the hospital and face Harry. He should be there when he made his statement. For now, though, he would go home and confront his sins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support and comments! Really means so much to me that you guys care as much about this as I do!


	3. Content

“You,” Dr Maalik started, as she checked his vitals, “are a very lucky man, Harry Thompson.”

“I think I’m gonna need more convincing on that front,” Harry muttered from the hospital bed.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I mean that you’re lucky you’re still breathing. Any higher and your liver or stomach may have been hit. Or an artery.”

Harry hurt too much to really care. They were limiting his painkillers, and it sucked. “I’m going to be OK, though. Right?”

“Yes, Harry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to make a full recovery. Well, there may be a scar, but we stitched you up well, so it shouldn’t be too obtrusive.”

“It’s OK. Scars are sexy.” He winked, unable to help himself. It was easier this way, to pretend that everything that happened before the stabbing hadn’t happened. 

She smiled gently. She was so kind, and such a good doctor. It struck him that he probably owed her his life, owed her everything. He thought back to Ste, back to his las plea, his last chance to not be so alone in the world. If you ever start to feel hate… How was it possible to hate this woman, who only wanted to help people? 

“I need to speak to the police,” he told her.

She nodded in understanding. “Of course. You’re doing much better today. I don’t want you leaving the bed, but if you need to make a statement that should be fine. As long as you feel that you’re sound of mind?”

“Yes, I just want to get this over with.” Harry wanted everything to end. He wanted to go home and raise his son… his son… and forget the last few months ever happened. And James… His dad said James was still helping him, still defending him, but Harry couldn’t just forget what had happened. How everything they had built had come crashing down in a matter of seconds. Did James even still want him? Did Harry care? And what about Ste? 

Dr Maalik left him alone with his thoughts. Harry assumed the police would come for him next, but was surprised when the door opened, and Sadie slid into the room. She looked hesitant, almost scared, and Harry couldn’t tell what of.

“Sadie?”

“Hey.” Harry noticed she was carrying a baby’s car seat, and his heart skipped. “He was asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him up to put him in his pram.”

She looked exhausted, Harry noticed. Eyes red, with dark smudges underneath, hair quickly thrown back in a messy bun. 

“Are you all right?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Harry…” Tears were in her eyes then. “You’re in the hospital, you almost died, and you’re asking me if—”

Her voice broke, and something in Harry’s chest clenched at the sight. He didn’t want her to cry, never wanted anyone to cry, especially not over him. He held out a hand and she didn’t hesitate to walk over and take it. “I’m fine, all right? Dr Maalik says I’ll have a full recovery, I’m going to be completely fine.”

She sniffed and nodded. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just so much had happened and thinking you were going to die, thinking Isaac was going to lose his Dad…” she trailed off brushing a few tears away from her cheek.

“I know,” Harry whispered, thinking of his own fear when he’d been laying on the ground, the pain almost too overwhelming. His own voice thickened as his throat became tight with emotion. “But I’m OK.”

Sadie let out a breath, trying to contain herself. She bent down and picked up a blinking Isaac from his car seat, who must have just woken up. She adjusted him in her arms, smiling down at him. “Hey there, darling! Do you want to see Daddy now?”  
Harry strained as he pushed himself upright, eager to hold his son again. She passed him over, the baby jostling a little, mewling a little.

“Hey, little man.” Looking down at Isaac, Harry couldn’t help the bloom of love in his heart. “It is so good to see you again!” He almost lost this. The reality of it frightened him more than anything in the world. He almost missed out on this, missed out on being a dad. 

“I went to the police.”

Harry stared at her. “What?”

She was still looking at Isaac—Harry couldn’t blame her. “I went to the police. Told them you were with me. James took me, yesterday. After we found out you were going to be all right, of course. They seemed pretty sceptical, wanted to know why I hadn’t come forward sooner… But then James gave them the recording you took of that woman. Mercedes? They arrested her last night and took Liam in for questioning. I told them about the blackmail.”

“James?” James took Sadie and his evidence to the police. James was trying to prove his innocence. His dad had been right.

“Harry, do you understand? This is it now, it’s over. You’re going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine!” 

Were they though? Because all of this, it started with the accident. It started with so many lies, so much being broken. Sadie and Grace and his dad and James. And James, and James, and James. Isaac. He pushed the thought of James from his mind and focused on his son, the innocent, untainted, perfect life in his arms. Isaac was safe. And, in the end, did anything else really matter? His body was healing and his heart was still shattered, but Isaac was safe.

He looked up at Sadie, who looked tired but whose eyes were alight with contentment. And, yeah. “We’re gonna be fine.”


End file.
